Dark Angel (Casteel 2)

Heaven, Tony, Jillian, me; even the servants learn the

rules and play the game."

An ache that had begun when I entered

thickened and grew. "What rules, Troy? What game?" Laughing in a way that chilled my blood, he

rolled over, holding me still, rolled again and again

until we fell to the floor, and he ripped off my clothes

wildly, and his warm kisses soon turned hot. "I hope

we both made a baby," he cried when it was over, and

he turned away and began to pick up the pieces of my

torn garments. "I hope I didn't hurt you. I never want

to hurt you. But I'd like to leave behind something

real, made of my flesh and blood." Then, crushing me

to him, he began to sob--deep, harsh, terrible sobs. I held him, caressed him, kissed him a thousand

times before we both fell onto the bed and covered

ourselves from the harsh cold.

As I lay there beside him and heard him choke

back his sobs and Whatever anguish he suffered, I

realized Troy was far too complex for me ever to

understand. I'd just love him as he was, and maybe

one day when he woke up from a dreamless sleep he'd

smile before dawn and throughout the day thoughts of

dying young would be forgotten.

And I slept. From time to time I woke up

slightly, enough to feel air moving around me.

Enough to feel warm arms embracing me.

Then it was another day, and I was in my own

room and there was a note on my night table. A short

note from Troy.

I didn't like notes. I'd not known one yet that

came unposted that hadn't brought sad news. .